


voyager

by amuk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Loss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: He knew that, he knew it all along, but it was one thing to know and another to have it happen. No matter where he went, time was the one luxury he never had.--Inigo, Cynthia, Olivia





	voyager

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Inigo zine! I had to write about InigoxCynthia, since I absolutely love her. Ramyeondoodles made a companion art for it, which looks amazing and you can find on their twitter at /ramyeondoodles/status/1051521376039960576

 

“Well,” Cynthia grunted as she yanked her lance out of a Risen. It had been a while since they had last fought them, even longer since they last fought them alone. “We’re back.”

 

“Yeah.” Inigo sighed, his shoulders drooping. After checking for any more enemies, he sheathed his sword. “I guess so.”

 

Grinning brightly, she clapped him on the back. “Cheer up! At least everyone’s back with us.”

 

He gave her a baleful look before gesturing at the empty space around them. “They’re not here, are they?”

 

Cynthia scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, looking away. “I suppose not… It happened on our way there, and now on our way back. Shouldn’t the spell be better at keeping us together?”

 

“If only.” Inigo straightened up, examining the forest. There weren’t any hints about where they were. Just a bunch of trees, some smouldering ruins, and even more trees. Looking up, he could spot a small speck circling around. At least they had a ride. “Where to?”

 

“Base camp, of course!” Cynthia crossed her arms, nodding sagely. “Lucina’s definitely going there.”

 

“I guess so— What are you doing?” Inigo watched, flummoxed, as Cynthia twirled her lance and then stabbed the ground in front of her.

 

She gave him a sheepish grin. “I had to do a victory pose first!”

 

Inigo covered his face with a hand. Pegasus or no pegasus, it was going to be a long journey.

 

-x-

 

 _You cannot save your world_ , Naga warned, her words wrapping around him like a noose. _You can alter their timeline, create a fork in the road, but this land will not change._

 

“That’s fine.” Inigo shrugged, forcing his lips to curve into his trademark grin. His hand went to the ring around his neck, gripping it tightly. “It’s not for me.”

 

Naga didn’t say anything, merely looked at him. Her eyes seemed to stare through him, into the darkest parts of his soul. Any flirtations he had died on his lips. With a shiver, Inigo motioned for her to start. It was bad enough they weren’t all going to be sent at the same time or even to the same place. Lucina already had a few hours on him, and he really didn’t want to leave a lady to face danger on her own.

 

The goddess chanted, a blindingly bright portal opening. Before he stepped through, she warned him one last time. _You will have to return, whether you desire it or not._

 

“I got it, I got it!” Inigo took a deep breath and stepped forward. “You said that already.”

 

_You cannot change what has happened to you._

 

Her words were more a curse than a warning, and then he fell through time.

 

-x-

 

Inigo kept an eye on Cynthia as he shifted away from her, careful not to stir her. It was his turn at watch and while it wasn’t unusual to check their surroundings, he still didn’t want to get caught.

 

When he was a good five metres away, Inigo took a deep breath. Then, as quietly as he could, he moved into position one. An arm arched over his head, a leg raised slightly, he waited for an imaginary beat before transitioning into the next position. His mother had guided him when he was younger, her hands gently molding his body into each pose.

 

 _Breathe and don’t forget to smile_ , she had reminded him when he started to get dizzy. _No matter what, you must always smile._

 

His hand beckoned an imaginary audience as he flowed into the tenth position. The eleventh was a little harder, he had no idea how his mother managed to make it look so graceful. And the twelfth…

 

“Inigo?” Cynthia called out groggily. Surprised, he broke his stance. “Is it time yet?”

 

Before she could note his position, he jogged back to her. He wasn’t quite ready to share this secret with her. “Not yet, love, I was just looking around. You can sleep a little longer.” She curled into his side when he sat back down, asleep within minutes. It was just as well that she had interrupted him; he had never learned past the twelfth move.

 

-x-

 

“You know,” Inigo suggested casually, crossing his arms as he spoke to Gerome, “you could just _talk_ to her.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gerome barely looked up from where he was sharpening his axe. His hand made a smooth arc as it followed the curve of the blade.

 

“I talked to my mom and everyone else talked to their parents. It’s not like they rejected us or anything.” Inigo ignored the threatening glare Gerome was shooting him. “She wants to talk to you.”

 

“…I…” Gerome hesitated, his hand freezing mid-stroke. His eyes darted to where Cherche stood, bemoaning yet another thing her exiled lord had said. “It’s easier this way. Less painful.”

 

 _You have to return_.

 

Oh. Inigo looked at Olivia. “You’re probably right.”

 

-x-

 

“We’ll land in an hour for a break,” Cynthia declared, leaning forward to pat her mount’s neck. “You’ve been a good girl and you’ll get a nice rest.”

 

“That’s… that’s good.” Inigo resisted the urge to pull her back. Sure, she was used to flying and he’d seen her do more dangerous stunts, but it was one thing to watch her from the ground. It was quite another to sit up there with her, so high the earth below was a quilt. Silently, he apologized for ever making fun of Gerome for his fear of heights.

 

Leaning back, Cynthia tapped his hands, still securely wrapped around her waist. “You’ve relaxed a bit!”

 

“You’re not flying as wild as you usually do.” Inigo loosened his grip slightly. “It’s fine now, right?”

 

“Well, I can definitely breathe, unlike last time.” He didn’t have to see her face to see her grin. “But you can hold on a little tighter if you want.”

 

“Oh? If you want a hug, you just have to ask.” He leaned to the left to dodge her headbutt. Laughing, he fastened his arms around her tighter. “Better?”

 

“The best.” Cynthia leaned back into his embrace, almost dancing in her seat. He moved his head back slightly; she was close, too close. “Ohh, remind me to bring you up here at dawn. It’s amazing!”

 

“I’d do anything for a lady… except for that.” Inigo grimaced. It was bad enough having to stay awake for his shift, let alone voluntarily waking up at that ungodly hour. “How about sunset instead?”

 

“You’re so lazy!” Cynthia chuckled. “Sumia had the same problem, only I think hers was more out of clumsiness. She’d get tangled in her sheets.”

 

“I’m amazed your mother managed to survive like that.” Inigo regretted his words immediately.

 

Cynthia stiffened. Hesitantly, she asked, “Do you think… they’re okay?”

 

His mother’s ring sat against his chest, cold and heavy as the chain he hung it on. _You can alter the timeline,_ Naga had promised. “Yes.”

 

Her hand brushed her saddlebag. Was her mother’s ring in it? “They’ll be happy and safe, right? They won’t end up like… like here. Like us.”

 

He increased his grip, pressing his forehead to her back. “No, they’ll be fine.”

 

“Oh.” Her voice sounded off, tempo faster or pitch higher. Her back was still rigid, her body as stiff as a board. “That’s good.”

 

He couldn’t see her face. It was an odd thing to fixate on, but Inigo couldn’t see her expression, couldn’t see if she was crying or laughing or something else all together. It’d take a word, just a word to have her turn back to him. A word, but he kept his silence. Her hand was still on her saddlebag, and perhaps they both had secrets they’d rather not share.

 

-x-

 

Olivia wasn’t his mother. She was his age, for one thing, and was lacking the experience and wisdom his mother had gained. Even in terms of being a mother, she hadn’t had her Inigo for long before returning to the battlefield. Whether it was dancing or confidence or a whole host of things, she didn’t quite match his memory. It was too easy to spot the differences.

 

Olivia wasn’t his mother. Yet when she smiled, warm and brightly as her hands reached for his, it was too easy to forget and reach back.

 

-x-

 

“I think we’re two days from camp,” Cynthia announced as they huddled next to each other. The moon was hidden, barely visible through the clouds. “Maybe three, if we run into any trouble.”

 

“That’s good.” They couldn’t risk a fire with all the Risen, and Inigo adjusted the blanket so it covered her better. “I’m a little tired of cold jerky.”

 

“Me too.” Cynthia snuggled closer, wrapping her right arm around him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes. “I kinda miss all those girls, now.”

 

“Your fans?” Inigo could barely breathe; every sound was too loud, too sharp. Was she too close? Was he too stiff? For all his talk, he had never really made it this far with anyone. It was one thing to hold her when they were flying high above the earth, yet another to do it down here on the ground. Not that it seemed to be a problem for Cynthia, with her usual brand of open affection.

 

“Yeah…” She sighed happily, her breath warm on his neck. “Pastries and pies and—”

 

“I remember, I remember.” Inigo frowned. “I still don’t get how you got so many and I got nothing. Despite my many, _many_ charms.”

 

“Charms…” Cynthia straightened up, considering it. Tapping her finger on her chin, she thought about it for a long moment before giving him a grin. “You’re persistent, if nothing else.”

 

He shouldn’t have said anything. “That’s all?”

 

“You’re optimistic?” Cynthia leaned back on him, adjusting her head until she found just the right spot. “That’s okay, you’ve got me now.”

 

His ears were hot, and he couldn’t quite reply to that.

 

-x-

 

 _That’s my dance_ , Olivia chirped, bouncing around him. _The second half was a little off, but you’re so good!_

 

She took his hands in hers before he could deny it, before he could back away like he did every other time. Staring at their clasped hands, he asked hesitantly, _Could you teach me?_

 

 _Sure_ , Olivia smiled, her grip tightening. If anything, she looked happier than he’d ever seen her before. Had it really been that simple? He should have done this from the start.

 

Inigo’s eyes opened with a start, his arms still wrapped around Cynthia. He could still hear Olivia’s voice, her excitement as she got ready to teach. Really, he should have just gone to her from the start. Yet he hadn’t, and now he was back where he started, in a world full of ruins and a dance that was still incomplete.

 

-x-

 

 _You have to come back_ , Naga warned. _Whether you desire it or not._

 

He knew that, he knew it all along, but it was one thing to know and another to have it happen. No matter where he went, time was the one luxury he never had.

 

-x-

 

“This is Ylisstol, isn’t it?” Cynthia climbed a pile of rubble as she scoped their surroundings. The ground was uneven, battle scars carving new roads where none used to be. She skirted around debris, the remnants of stalls and homes. “We’ve been here before.”

 

Inigo stopped walking, bending down to pick up a blue rag. There was a small glint of gold on it and he recognized the symbol of his favourite bar... What used to be his favourite bar. Splotches of red stained it and he tried hard not think about where that came from.

 

Grima would have attacked this place first. Inigo let go of the fabric, observing his surroundings closely. They were on a small street, leading up to the main marketplace. Around them stood ruined buildings; walls shattered, roofs crumbling. This was nothing like the Ylisstol he knew. This was everything like the world he remembered.

 

“They were going to have a festival.” Cynthia scrambled over broken concrete as she picked her way to the town’s center. “To celebrate the war’s end and Lucina’s first birthday.”

 

“And Lucina didn’t want to stay for that.” Inigo followed after her slowly, still examining the ground. There were shards of glass and overturned chairs, fragments of lives that had only moments to flee. He turned his eyes away from an abandoned doll and quickened his pace into a jog. “Let’s go back. Your pegasus must be rested by now.”

 

“Just a little longer.” She pointed to a spot on their far right. “Over there was the best place to buy chicken.” She pointed to her left. “And that was the best pastry shop.”

 

“You would know.” Inigo huffed as he approached her. “Your fans always got you some.”

 

“I’m sure you had some fans.” She grinned, pointing at herself. “I’m one.”

 

He hadn’t quite expected that and he flushed a crimson red. Turning away, he pointed to a pile of wooden planks. “I think the main stage was over there.”

 

Cynthia walked toward it. The area around was surprisingly clear and she beckoned him to come over. “Hey, Inigo, wanna dance?”

 

“Huh?” He blinked.

 

Without waiting for a response, she took his hands in hers and whirled around him. “We never got to go to the festival.”

 

“Is this really the time or place?” Inigo raised an eyebrow before raising his hand up to twirl her. Laughing, she spun him around immediately after.

 

“Why not?” Cynthia asked simply. “You’re here and I’m here, and that’s a good enough reason.”

 

He couldn’t really fight that logic.

 

-x-

 

The stars spread above them, a million worlds he would never get to visit. Inigo lay down on the grass beside Cynthia, staring up at the sky. It was funny, but he had never really done that before. Not in this world, in _his_ world.

 

“You know,” Cynthia said, her voice drifting to him on the night air. “I think I’ll make the lance.”

 

“The lance?” Inigo vaguely recalled a story about an unfinished lance, of promise that was never kept. A common tale. It might as well have been the story of this world.

 

“The lance.” Cynthia patted her bag loudly and suddenly he understood why she kept touching it unconsciously through their journey. “I have a lancehead, I just need to find a stick.”

 

 “Think you can do it?”

 

“I do.” Cynthia paused for a long moment. “I wanted to make it with mom, but… I think I’ll just make it myself.”

 

“Why?” He almost didn’t want to ask the question. Brushing the ring around his neck unconsciously, he reached out to grip her hand. Her skin was warm against his, a miniature sun.

 

“Why not?” Squeezing his hand, Cynthia laughed. She turned her head to look at him, almost glowing in the pale moonlight. “I have a lancehead, I should make a lance with it.”

 

Inigo stared at her. “That’s it?”

 

“That’s it,” she confirmed simply. Looking back up at the stars, she murmured, “I was going to make it with Sumia, too, but… we didn’t have the time.”

 

“…Me too.” Inigo looked back up at the stars. Where they the same in that past world? In that new, alternate reality? Maybe somewhere, some _when_ , Olivia was looking up at them too. Maybe with a happier Inigo and a happier Cynthia. “She was going to help me dance.”

 

“We travelled through time and we still didn’t do everything.” He could hear her pout. “The Justice Cabal has to fix that.”

 

Inigo snorted, imagining Cynthia, Owain, and Morgan fighting against time itself. “I have a few complaints myself.”

 

“We can’t go back.” He could hear Naga’s words repeated through hers, _You cannot stay there_. “And if we can’t go back, then we just have to go forward.”

 

Inigo looked at her, stupefied. “Forward?”

 

“Forward,” Cynthia confirmed. “So, I’ll just have to finish the lance myself.”

 

She sounded so matter of fact, as though it was obvious, as though it were a truth. And maybe it was, maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe he had the answer all along, chained to his neck just like the ring.

 

“I see.” Inigo laughed, pushing his bangs back with a hand. His fingers dug into his scalp and he chuckled once more. Maybe it was time he finished the dance—it would never be his mother’s, but it didn’t have to be.

 

It was his own. He’d build it up and make it something his own. Olivia would like that, he was sure of it.

 

“What’s so funny?” Cynthia pushed herself up and crawled up to him. Leaning forward, she peered down at his face. Her hair brushed his skin lightly and he reached up to curl it around his fingers.

 

“You know, I love you,” he confessed.

 

Her eyes sparkled and she leaned down to kiss him.

 


End file.
